Chapter 15

The week dragged by, with Jim dropping in for post-work showers and leaving swiftly afterwards. Perhaps he didn't want to impose after my reaction to him barging in that day. In the office, I couldn't find any letters that grabbed me more than the one written by Margaret. I thought about visiting the address in Gatley to see if she still lived there. But should I try to find out more about her and Tabitha first? I'd learnt the hard way that it was best to prepare properly before embarking on a work-related meeting. That's if she was still alive, and her memory hadn't deteriorated since writing the letter. In the meantime, I created a document about the Below Stairs exhibition, using information from the guidebook as a starting point and selecting which photos should be blown up.

On Thursday after work, I sat in my kitchen with a second glass of Rioja from the bottle Jim had left on the doorstep. Chilled music played through my speaker. Gatley was certainly a calming place to be, and I had more time on my hands in the evenings. There was the sound of a key turning in the lock of the front door and Jim came into the kitchen, wearing a navy-blue dressing gown.

‘Hello there, Jim,' I said, feeling a little tipsy from the wine.

‘Evening, Claire. You may have noticed I'm sporting a new dressing gown.'

‘That's considerate of you.'

He tightened the belt. ‘I popped into Dorking earlier and treated myself. Thought I'd stop putting you off your dinner.'

I laughed.

He placed an ATP reusable coffee cup on the table. ‘A gift,' he said.

‘Oh, how thoughtful. Thanks,' I said, a hint of sarcasm in my voice. It wasn't the most exciting design and now I'd have to use it when there was any chance of seeing him.

‘My pleasure,' he said. ‘No more disposable cups for you.'

He smiled, but I had a feeling he'd get cross if he caught me using one again.

‘Any update on the plumber?' I said.

‘He's booked for early next week. Is that all right?'

‘Sure.'

‘Thank you, Claire,' he said, rather formally, as he slipped off his flip-flops and lined them up neatly by the wall before heading upstairs. Just being in his presence lifted my mood.

My mobile vibrated. It was Miles. What did he want? Answering, I said, ‘Hello, Miles.'

‘Claire?'

‘Yes?'

‘Everything all right?'

‘Why are you calling?'

‘I have some post for you. Shall I bring it over or would you prefer me to forward it on?'

He was making an excuse to see me, surely?

‘Forwarding it should be fine.'

‘Miss you though,' he said, in the voice he used when he wanted something. Did he mean this, or was he testing the water?

‘You do?'

‘Of course. Do you miss me?' he said.

I shrugged, pointlessly as he couldn't see me. He wasn't a fan of FaceTime, probably because he didn't think it made him look that good. I'd given up trying to get him to use it whenever one of us was away on business. Did I miss him, or the life we'd shared and a warm body next to me at night? In hindsight, I'd stayed with him for way too long, partly due to the fear of upheaval. Our life together had been comfortable and easy. Did he regret letting me get away?

‘Your silence speaks volumes,' he said.

‘What do you expect me to say?'

‘Can I come and see your new place tomorrow night and check you're okay? I've been so worried about you, you know.'

He hadn't seemed too worried when he allowed me to load my car alone. He'd picked up his keys from the dish by the door and headed off to the pub to meet a friend, giving the excuse that he hated goodbyes. Later that evening, no doubt inebriated, he'd sent a message, signing off with one large kiss – something he'd done rather than adding a cute emoji when we weren't getting on.

Sorry things didn't work out. Good luck with everything X

‘Sorry things didn't work out' rather than ‘Sorry, I messed up'. How passive-aggressive, I'd thought at the time as I sat on the sofa in Deborah's living room, alone because she was playing the wicked stepmother in Cinderella at Richmond Theatre.

‘Sorry I led you on for years and years, allowing you to think we had some kind of future.'That's what the message should have said. The night before, he'd finally admitted he never intended to have children with me. Until then, Miles had allowed me to think this might be a possibility sometime in the not-too-distant future.

One evening after work, while staying at Deborah's, I had flicked through the pages of What's Up, Surrey! magazine and there it was, an ad for the job at Gatley Hall, complete with a cottage to rent. On a whim, I'd applied that very night.

Jim's footsteps clumped down the stairs out of nowhere. Had he been eavesdropping?

‘Look, Miles, I can't really talk. There's someone here,' I said, not knowing how to answer his question. If I allowed him onto my new territory, would he tarnish my attempt at a new start when it was all going quite well?

‘Thanks, Claire,' Jim said, far more loudly than was necessary, as he waved from the kitchen doorway. I pointed to the phone next to my ear. ‘Sorry,' he mouthed, making for the front door. But speaking to Miles had made me crave some company and I wasn't ready to see him leave yet.

‘Do you have a man there?' Miles said, a hint of jealousy in his voice.

‘Just my neighbour. I have to go. Bye, Miles.'

Hanging up, I found myself following Jim out of the front door, and caught him as he turned the key in his lock.

‘Jim, wait.' My phone rang. It was Miles calling back. Jim raised his eyebrows, his face serious, as he ran a hand through his thick wet hair. It seemed I'd misread that he wanted to interact with me. Pursuing him to his doorstep had been a mistake.

‘Aren't you going to get that?' he said.

Pressing decline on my phone screen, I shook my head.

‘Is everything okay, Claire?' he said, in an exasperated voice.

His change in tone towards me hurt. My chest tightened and I took a moment to breathe.

‘Yes, but you can't walk into my house whenever you feel like it.' My voice wavered, but I couldn't control it. Exhaling, I said, ‘That was supposed to be a private conversation and it was obvious you were listening in.' What was I even saying? Miles had triggered negative emotions, and now my phone vibrated as he tried again to call back. Pressing the decline button firmly, I looked at Jim and bit my lip to stop myself from going any further, embarrassed that he was getting to see me like this.

Slipping his keys into the pocket of his dressing gown, he stepped into his cottage and leant on the front door. He sighed, and said, ‘Your mundane life doesn't interest me, Claire, and, as I said before, the plumber is coming next week.'

‘You think my life is mundane?'

My voice continued to waver. How was Miles managing to mess up the new life I was building from afar?

‘No, I didn't mean that,' he said, gently. ‘You just got my back up, that's all.'

My eyes started to well up. Jim was right. My life was mundane, and his brief appearances had been the only spark to look forward to. And now I'd gone and fallen out with him. What was I thinking, speaking to my only friend here like that?

‘Whoever that was on the phone has clearly upset you. Are you all right?' he said.

The world seemed to be caving in. I'd done my best to forget Miles since arriving at Gatley Hall, but now he'd caught up with me.

Sniffing, and in need of a tissue, I said, ‘I'm fine,' dismissing Jim with the wave of a hand before turning to go back inside, but a breeze had blown the front door shut behind me. This really was not my day. ‘Damn, I've locked myself out now.'

Jim pressed his keys into my hand, and I unlocked the door.

‘Thanks.'

‘Claire,' he said as I handed them back to him.

‘Yes?'

‘Why don't you come to the drinks for the volunteers at the Old Fox tonight?'

The drinks Helen had mentioned. Caught off guard, I wasn't ready with a viable excuse, and so I spoke the truth.

‘I'm not really feeling sociable.'

‘Everyone's friendly enough. What do you have to lose?'

Picturing a lonely night ahead trying to get over the phone call with Miles, I said, ‘Okay. When are you leaving?'

‘Ten minutes?'

‘So soon?'

‘There's no need to dress up. I'll knock and we can go together.'

Walking into the pub with Jim would be a lot easier than arriving on my own.

‘Thanks.'

I ran upstairs to change my clothes and apply a bit of make-up.